The Blue Fairy
by Verjinya Mercer
Summary: Hazel Gray is a new werewolf. There is only one Alpha who is more Dominate then her. Bran Cornick is the Marrok. He should have just killed her. A look back into her past just might give him the opportunity he missed. Of course it all depends on who's the stronger Alpha.
1. The Beginning

I am a modest woman.

I like being covered.

I balk at crop tops and bikinis.

Which made my ordeal all the more shocking.

My alarm clock went off just as I was about to smash into the ground. Gasping awake I blinked furiously attempting to calm the phantom adrenalin pumping through my veins. Sighing I rolled onto my back or at least tried to.

A pleasant murmured, "Five more minutes." wafted from behind me followed by a muscled arm wrapping around my waist. My naked waist.

Time ceased to exist.

Faster than you can say rape I was out of the bed taking the loose sheet with me. In my quick escape it never occurred to me that the person in the bed was as naked as I was and he certainly was. Sucking in a wispy lungful of air I knocked my head back to scream.

"Silents." The man appeared clamping a hand over my mouth. His eyes seemed to glow gold. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Snorting I snapped my teeth down on his hand drawing blood. As soon as his hand was out of my mouth I let out a ridiculously girly shriek. The man backed away clutching his hand a look of cold calculation on his face. Scoping the room I choked back the scream as I recognized where I was. Propped against the nightstand was a replica of Anduril the sword from the lord of the rings. Grabbing the sword I unsheathed it and pointed the semi sharp blade at the man.

"Why are we at the Blue Fairy Motel?" I growled jabbing the blade in his general direction I kept care to keep eye contact.

"And how did you know that?" He seemed ridiculously at ease.

"This is my brothers room."

"Your brother was part of Xavier's pack?" His eyes never left mine and they continued to glow.

"Are you?" I was tempted to look for an exit but I had the feeling if I looked away he would attack me.

"Am I?" He still hadn't blinked. "Hazel do you remember what happened Monday?"

Gritting my teeth I looked away it felt like he won something. "My brother was killed."

"Do you know what day it is?" He asked his voice had softened dramatically and at some point he had picked up a pair of pants and was putting them on.

"Wednesday?" The word came out as a question. I wasn't sure what day it was it should have been Wednesday but it didn't feel like it.

"Its Sunday." The man whispered. "Put the sword down Hazel."

"How did you know my name?" I muttered unwillingly lowering the sword. Realizing what I was doing I fought against my own muscles. Managing to steady it at knee length I refused to let it go. "What are you? Who are you?"

His eyes began to glow again. "I am a werewolf my name is Bran Cornick-."

Before I could stop myself I let out startled chuckle. "Bran like the Muffin?"

"I am Bran Cornick," He pointedly ignored me. "I am the Marrok."

Marrok, the word had some weight like it should mean something. Unfortunately it meant nothing to me. "So Bran Cornick, if I gave your name to the police will I become a part of a list of attractive murdered women?"

"Attractive?" Ouch.

"Yes. I know I don't look like much but I deserve it. Plus I need the confidence." I bared my teeth an action I had never used before but felt quite natural. The man in turn bared his own.

"Hazel Gray," His voice took on a gravelly tone. "I have not molested you in any way."

"And I suppose my nakedness is all in my head." I looked at my arm in mock wonder. "Thank you for letting me borrow the Emperors clothing."

Snarling he drew my attention. "I came to help you change."

"You certainly had the right start." I glared and got nothing. "My brothers the werewolf not me and you're a bit late Xavier helped him threw the change last month."

"Your brothers dead." He said bluntly. "Do you remember how it happened?"

I wanted to stab him with the sword but it wouldn't budge or at least I couldn't. "Werewolves killed him."

"They almost killed you too." With his voice, he forced my eyes to look at him. "You changed Tuesday night on the full moon."

"Its Sunday." I said numbly echoing his previous words.

"Yes.' He said slowly. "You nearly went Lupe. You were stronger than Xavier could deal with. You're an Alpha."

"My brother was Submissive." He shouldn't have become a Werewolf. He was too kind to pure. To soft.

"Your wolf took full control. She hunted down the lone wolves that killed your brother, killed them then started playing with the pack." He let me absorb that before going on. "My son Charles was called to put you down."

"I'm still alive." I questioned.

"My daughter-in-law was able to sedate you long enough to pull out Charles alive." Leaning against the wall he went on. "You're more dominant then my son."

"Not more than you?"

He cracked a grin. "Thankfully not more than me."

Dropping the sword I backed myself into a corner. "I killed?" I asked in a small voice.

"Charles got here before you killed any of the pack."

"But I killed." I asked shakily sliding down the wall.

"Yes."

I had time to whisper, "Oh." Before throwing up on my feet. I had never killed anything before. "Did I kill anyone else beside the lone wolfs?"

"No."

"That's good," I nodded sinking deeper into the corner until I sat in a crouched position. Understanding dawned, I looked up. "Have you come to kill me?'

The man had stalked closer while I having my panic attack, close enough to count the lines in his iris. Crouching on his knees he studied my face, his eyes glowing gold. I looked away my head tilting farther then I wanted it to. Exposing my very vulnerable neck.

"No, I don't think I have to."


	2. Chapter One

_Three years Latter._

Three Miles from the Canadian Border

I loved running.

It as a wolf it was accelerating. It was night and the moon was high over head giving light that I did not need but was useful none the less. My goal was the Canadian border and I had nearly done it. Three more miles lay between me and a hot plate of Poutine. Victory will be mine.

_Hazel….._

Crap. Doubling my speed I attempted to shut out the voice trying to cut threw my subconscious. Fries, Gravy, Cheese, Curds became my mantra. I sang it loudly and on a steady loop.

"Fries, Gravy, Cheese,-"

_Hazel Gray!_ Bran's Alpha voice broke threw my sacred prayer. Shocked by the force of his voice I tripped over my paws sending myself face first down a ravine. Righting myself half way down I saved myself from the frigid white waters churning below. Muscle sinks like lead in the water a not so fun lesson to learn one hot summer day. I was almost fish bait I snarled at the water, it would do no good but it made me feel better.

_Hazel Gray you better not be sneaking into Canadian territory,_ He growled. _Because they will not react kindly to an Alpha of your caliber in their home._

Bran used to be cool. The day I woke up in the Blue Fairy Motel I was convinced that he was a controlling, murder, rapist (One out of three). He reacted with calm and cool leadership. He helped me change and control my inner wolf. Somewhere along the way he became my mother. Don't get me wrong I needed Bran, I just really didn't want him.

_Get back here,_ he ordered.

"Yes, Myaster." I grumbled, changing directions. I had learned a long time ago that orders from the Marrok weren't to be ignored. Bad things happened, for example your throat would be ripped out. As if sensing my resignation he didn't bother me again and I was fine with that.

My first night in Aspen Creek was spent outside. I thought I was going to stay with Bran but Leah, Bran's mate took one look at me then tried to rip my throat out. It was understandable I mean just that morning the guy woke up naked with an equal naked woman. I too would be wondering what my love monkey was doing on those long business trips. So, I only broke her collarbone, after that I made myself disappear I had been homeless so I was no stranger to sleeping out side. Besides, it was nice out so a night in a tree wouldn't be so bad.

About a mile out of Aspen Creek was my home. The beauty of supernatural strength is the ability to build big with little effort. The tree I spent my first night in became the tree I built my house on.

While staying at the Aspen Creek motel I spent a lot of time watching TV. According to Bran, I couldn't interact with people because if I lost my temper I would tear off their head and throw it across the room.

Anyway one night a documentary on tree house builder's came on and it was like magic. The tree houses featured on the documentary weren't the rinky dinky tree houses of childhood past. No, they were condos in the clouds. The next morning I had drawn up some plans and went hunting for lumber. Bran approved after making some structural changes he said it would be character building.

It took five months and a lot of help from Tony a local carpenter but it worked out like a dream (that drained my bank account). It had hot running water and WiFi what more could a person want for. Slowing to a trot I gazed up at my castle in the clouds.

The light was on.

_Come on up._

I sat on my back hunches and growled slowly, hackles raised. It was Bran the Muffin- I mean Marrok and he was in **my** house. An image of killing him flashed through my mind before I squashed the notion. Bran had told me it was normal he then went on to tell me the consequences of my action. If I killed Bran I would have to take his place in the pack. So needless to say I wouldn't (even if I could) harm a single hair on his pretty little head.

Sniffing the foot of the stairs I caught Brands scent it was mingled with Sandalwood. Charles was in my house another thing that I didn't like but I wouldn't kill Charles for the same reason that I wouldn't kill Bran. I had no desire to be the pack executioner anymore then I wanted to be head honcho. Taking another sniff I found Anna's scent my tail wagged slightly, I liked Anna.

The stairs led up to a platform that in turn led to a wire and wood suspension bridge. The main structure technical wasn't directly built on a tree. Instead a platform was built that wrapped around three tall cedar trunks. The house part was nestled in the middle of the decked platform.

I padded over the bridge and passed the front door. Stopping at one of the windows, I hopped up on to my back legs to peek into the living room. Resting my paws on a painted flower box filled with Basil I got an eyeful of my reflection.

By whatever wolf raffle that the "change" was I had got the short stick. I had a white coat that was pretty but was not practical, cinnamon markings that suspiciously looked like tiger stripes, and two different colored eyes one cobalt the other gold an affliction I was told was fairly common among dogs and wolves (Heterochromia).

Refocusing my vision I assessed the situation.

Bran and Charles stud with their backs facing the window a position they wouldn't have normally taken had their attention not had been distracted by Anna who was playing with my newest toy. Delicate music wafted from the 5 stringed electric cello that Anna was playing expertly. I felt a twinge of jealousy that I swallowed.

Hopping down I rounded to the back of the structure. A glass dogie door let me straight into my room. I gave a little yip to declare my intentions to the closed door. The music paused for a moment before continuing. The room was just big enough to fit a queen mattress and dresser, a pocket door was opened to an adjoining three piece bathroom.

Arching my back I let the change wash over me. I had never got used to it, the feeling of fur retracting and bone remodeling. Gasping for breath I collapsed. It takes me fifteen seconds to change and twenty to change back, I was sure I had timed it. Running to the bathroom I rinsed out my mouth.

_I will not throw up._ I growled at myself in the mirror. Meeting blue eyes I watched as the left glazed gold. _Stop this,_ I snarled at my wolf. The gold faded and I was left with plain blue eyes again. Pulling my long black hair away from my face I twisted it into a bun at the back of my neck. It made me look severe but maybe that wasn't a bad thing in this case. My brother had once told me that I was built like an elf from the Lord of the Rings movies which I thought was a lovely compliment until he pointed out that you couldn't really tell who was a male or female.

Grabbing a pair of sweats I had time to put them on before there was a loud rap on the door. Opening the door I met Brands stony face.

"Why did you want to go to Canada?"

Striding past him I walked into the living room. "I felt it was a matter of life or death." I said straight faced. "Anna its good to see you again, Charles."

Anna gave me a lopsided smile and Charles gave a deep nod which was I assumed the equivalent of a kiss on the cheek. Blinking back suprise I turned back to Anna. "What do you think?"

Her half smile turned into a full grin. "It handles like a dream."

"I know right, but I was a little leery about the acoustics on the extra C string." I nodded to her to play it. We both listened as the sound resonated. "Doesn't it sound a little swallowed?"

The cello was not cheap but luckily my job paid well enough to cover the expenses. I worked for the Noble Cinema Scoring Co. For a living I put music to movies. I loved my job.

"A little." She agreed.

"So do you think-," Before I went on my voice caught in my throat.

I was ignoring the head honcho, I might have as well tossed a gauntlet at his feet. His hand clamped over the back of my neck. It swallowed my neck, enveloping it in a trembling death trap. Trembling was bad it meant barely contained fury. (Or fear, but I doubted that was the case here.)

"Why were you going to Canada?" He whispered into my ear.

Bad. Why couldn't I leave well enough alone.

"I wanted Poutine."

"What?" He let me go surprised.

Taking the opportunity I backed my way into the kitchenette. It had a door out to the deck and a way out if things started to get hairy, oh look a pun.

"Fries covered in gravy and cheese curds." I explained. "I saw it on the EAT network." I looked at Charles he stood protectively in front of Anna. Speaking of Anna I tried to send her a mental message to work her Omega ju ju on the pissed off Marrok.

"Let me get this straight," He sighed exasperated. "You would be willing to cause a werewolf civil war for fast food?"

"Oh, calm down they would just kill me, you're over reacting."

Start a war?

"And who would have to retaliate?" He asked like I was stupid.

"Would you retaliate?" I growled. My hands closed over butcher block counters. I held on not because I was trying to get away but because I was trying to hold myself back.

"You are one of my wolves, of course I would." The words seemed to surprise Bran more than me which was quite the feet as I could no longer breath.

Charles politely cleared his throat effectively breaking the awkward spell that had descended.

"Right." I coughed breaking eye contact. "What are you doing in my house?"

Bran nodded accepting my submissive gesture. Our shaky truce went back into affect. "The Blue Fairy Motel burned down."

My eyebrows lowered. The Blue Fairy Motel was the base of the Las Vegas Werewolf pack. My brother had lived there for the entirety of his werewolf life a grand total of three and a half weeks. Xavier lived there with his family.

"How many dead?" I asked releasing the counter.

"All of them." Charles sighed, Anna put a hand on his back comforting him. A sharp yearning hit me, I wanted someone to comfort me. I turned my eyes to Bran who was watching them with the same rapt fascination I had. His eyes suddenly latched on to me. Kinship passed between us before I remembered who I was looking at. Snorting I turned away.

"How," I snapped more harshly than I intended. "Fourteen werewolves do not politely sit and burn."

Charles once again went tense. "Calm, Hazel lashing at us does good for no one but the ones responsible."

My eyes zeroed in on him as a hunger built. "Sweet Charles you smell tasty from here I wonder if you taste as spicy as you smell."

"Hazel." Anna growled jumping to her feet. Calm followed her words soothing the wolf tearing at my control.

"Thank you." I murmured. "Why did you tell me this, I haven't thought about Vegas in years."

That wasn't true. I had left everything there my life, my friends, _my family_. Thoughts of what they were up to had crossed my mind often. I had friends in the pack.

"I want you to go and figure out what happened." Bran folded his arms. "Deal with it as I would."

I opened my mouth then thought differently of it. "I'll catch a plan tonight on one condition."

Bran cocked an eyebrow.

"I do this alone." Taking a deep breath I went on. "Without you there I might be tempted to kill Charles."

Bran nodded. "Your right but Charles isn't going with you," A smile lit his face. "I am."


	3. Chapter Two

Flight 6F3Z

GTF to LAS

8:30 PM

Never fly coach with another alpha.

There is something about being packed in with a hundred different people in a pressurized cabin that really puts someone on edge. Now, add a gloating werewolf and a stinky grandmother women knitting dangerously with silver knitting needles and what do you get?

A very pissed of Marrok.

Sitting pressed up against the window I suppressed a smile. Due to some lightning fast reflexes I managed to nab the window seat. Poor little Bran had to squeeze into the tiny middle seat which happened to be right beside Mrs. Rosemary Debwa. Mrs. Debwa was visiting some of her 'grand-babies' in Billings and for some reason she felt compelled to get handsy with Bran.

"Oh my Mr. Cornick you're very strong," She simmered. "Whats this muscle down here do?"

"Mrs. Dubwa!" Bran gasped flipping my arm rest up while simultaneously attempting to scramble into my seat. A wild look of desperation painted on his face.

He looked good enough to eat.

Shaking my head I decided I no longer wanted to be pressed up against the cabin wall by a sexually harassed werewolf. "Ma'ma I believe I haven't introduced myself." Reaching over Bran's shoulder I offered my hand. "My names Hazel, I am Bran's fiancee and the mother of his unborn child."

Blinking once a magenta hue began to tint her cheeks. "Oh, please forgive me," She stammered. "I saw no ring, and my husband Richard, bless his soul, has been in heaven for ten years, and well your strapping fella there could make a nun change her faith."

Smiling graciously, I awkwardly patted Bran's shoulder. "You're preaching to the choir ma'am, we just can't keep our hands off each other, isn't that right dear?"

I patted his cheek granted it was a little more firmer than necessary but I think it got the point across.

"Ah, young love." She sighed turning her attention back at her knitting. I wonder how she would feel if she knew that he was older than her.

Bran cast a weary look at the horny old women before easing out of my personal space. Which was well considering my wolf was thinking of ways to kill him and they were getting pretty creative.

"Honey," I whispered sweetly. "Next time we take the Jet."

That was to be the original plan but Charles was needed elsewhere he got the jet. From the way Bran was acting it would have been better to wait.

Especially when the turbulence started.

"Ladies and Gentlemen it seems were about to hit some turbulence ahead for the next few minuets or so for that reason the fasten seat belts sign will now be turned on." The captain's voice warbled from the intercom system just before we lost about six feet of altitude. He had time to utter a swear word before the intercom shut off.

"Doesn't really instill confidence does it?" I laughed turning to Bran. "Bran?"

His head was down, bowed really as he stringed together strange words in a rhythmic language. The words didn't sound obscene in fact they sounded quite the opposite. Was he praying?

His hands were clenched tight to the armrests on both sides. He was scared, my eyes scanned the people surrounding us in an attempt to snoop out the danger. The family in front of us kind of looked suspicious I gave a good sniff then recoiled, someone needed to teach that family proper hygiene.

Looking back at Bran the plane rattled violently dropping another few feet. His eyes were facing directly on the headrest in front of him. He looked totally calm but he smelled tense with a sweet undercurrents of fear.

_You should kill him._

"Bran." I whispered but he ignored me. "Hey, Bran." Placing my hand over his I pinched his wrist.

Lightning fast he flipped his hand, releasing the arm rest, he gripped my wrist. "Wow, calm-," The plane shuttered this time we rose a couple feet but it wasn't like I noticed. As the plane rattled Bran's hand on my wrist constricted. "Bran let go of my hand." I growled angrily as his grip continued to tighten but he continued to not hear me. Tugging back, I used my other hand to try and pry his fingers back but they seemed to be cemented there.

The plane gave a violent shudder before going weightless. I felt my body tug against the seat belt as I seemed to hover. Snapping my head in Bran's direction I smiled, a look of pure terror was painted on his face. Fear saturated the air to the point of near suffocation and Bran's scent added his contribution. He was afraid of the turbulence! Just then the pilot seemed to awaken from whatever nap he had taken and pulled the nose of the plane up.

There were shrill screams and for some reason mine was the loudest.

I don't really remember what happened after that. Not proud words, but when I came to I was leaning quite heavily on Bran. Crap, I must have fainted. Pulling away from Bran I jostled my wrist, white pain flared and black dots speckled my vision.

"Do not move." Bran murmured in his Alpha voice, I stilled. "She's alright but perhaps you can ask a flight attendant for a Ginger Ale?"

"Of course dear." Mrs. Dubwa simmered.

The sound of her standing signaled her departure. Looking down at my wrist I assessed the damage. A ring of bruised flesh encompassed my wrist which was just beginning to swell. I tried to wiggle my fingers but they wouldn't heed my commands.

"Its broken." Bran sighed taking my wrist in his hands, I bit back a cry. "The bones displaced and it's is already trying to knit itself together."

"What does that mean?" I whispered harshly.

"It means that I have to re-align it before it heals improperly." He whispered while delicately examining my wrist.

"Then do it." I growled looking up. I was still leaning against him. From this angle my chin was resting on his shoulder.

_I could easily rip out his throat._

"Its going to hurt," He growled. "Some of the bone it already mended, it will draw attention."

"Then take me to the bathroom." I gasped as I accidentally shifted my shoulders.

He nodded and helped me up just, then Mrs. Dubwa returned with a plastic glass of Ginger Ale and a flight attendant.

"Is everything alright." The flight attendant asked concern lacing her voice.

"Yes." Bran said with a winning smile. "My fiancee is just feeling sick."

A knowing look crossed Mrs. Dubwa's face. "The Baby?"

"What-," I started dumbstruck but Bran cut me off.

"That morning sickness just doesn't know when to stop." He patted my head and pulled me closer. "Right, _Honey._"

Remembering what I had told Mrs. Dubwa earlier, I made a very convincing grown. "Bathroom." I uttered weakly.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The flight attendant gasped making a beeline straight to the restrooms at the front of the plane. She held the door open for us the closed it tightly behind us. Bran locked the door.

Like all other airplane restrooms it was smaller than a broom closet, just big enough for a toilet and sink.

Bran flipped the toilet seat down. "Sit." I followed as ordered mostly because there wasn't much else I could do. The room was small, Bran and I were not delicate people. After he sat me down he began to take off his belt.

"What are you doing?" I growled holding my hand tighter to my body.

Once he got his belt free he folded it in half. "Its going to hurt this will keep you from screaming or doing damage to your teeth." He held the belt to my mouth I eyed him warily before biting down on the leather. It smelled like him.

Kneeling in front of me he stretched my arm out.

"I'm sorry." He looked me in the eyes apologetically, I looked away.

I heard the bone braking before I felt it. There was a small crack before the pain ran up my arm. I bit down hard on the belt in my mouth to silence the scream building in my throat.

"Your doing excellent." He murmured soothingly just like he would during the first few times he walked me threw the change.

What was he doing? I growled angrily into the leather. He seemed to grinding my wrist back and forth almost like he was trying to break it more.

My free hand flew out and went for his throat. As if sensing my attack he stood and deflected my attack with his knee. Using that same knee he pinned my hand to the wall and sat on me pinning my legs in place. He continued to work on my wrist. Biting down harder on the belt I sawed my molars through the thick leather.

"There," He stood up and released me. "That should hold until it until I can find something better."

I spat out the belt and let it fall to the ground. Looking down at my wrist I examined the makeshift splint holding my wrist together. It was made up with one of the 'in case of emergency' pamphlets and tied together with some of Mrs. Dubwa's fancy knitting yarn. It was crude looking but it would hold.

I opened my mouth to thank him but found my throat was too raw to speak. I looked up at Bran alarmed, he merely laughed.

"Silents is the best thanks I could ever hope for, from you."

I shot him an evil eye before shutting my mouth. Technically it was his fault in the first place, I would be sure to mention that in the future. Bran bent down to retrieve his belt but found that it was in two pieces. Holding them up you could see that human teeth had gnawed threw it.

I smiled.

We reached LAS at 10:30 on the dot which was great considering our near brush with death, some of us closer than others. It was raining which was not that uncommon this time of year. Rain was a good thing, not only because it helped get threw the drought season but that it acted like a gigantic car wash, washing away the dirt and grime that hot desert wind sends flying.

It also cooled the otherwise sweltering heat which was great considering I was wearing a coat. The coat was Bran's, I was a Las Vegas native I knew I wouldn't need a jacket so I didn't carry one on the plane with me. Bran had brought his because he used it like a man purse storing all his essentials in the many pockets. He had asked the fight attendant to grab it after he realized that my little splint would draw attention. She fawned over use for the rest of the flight. Rosemary asked us to name our child (if it was a boy), after her husband; Richard.

After collecting our bags we were accosted by a man holding a sign with my last name on it.

"Cool." I grinned turning to Bran. "I didn't know you would spring for a chauffeur."

"I didn't." Bran growled just as the chauffeur spoke up.

"Mr. Kane sent me, he desires your company Ms. Gray."

My face went blank as I struggled to hide my emotions. "Lead on."


	4. Chapter Three

I made two and a half steps before Bran grabbed me by the scruff. I got five feet further before he used his Alpha voice on me.

"Halt." No joke he actually said the word halt. This got a few funny looks from a Swedish couple that was standing within hearing distances. "What in the word is going on?"

Stilling I shook myself from my daze. "Do you remember on the layover in Seattle you asked me if I had any suspicions on leads and I meekly told you I had none?"

"Meekly?" He raised his eyebrows when he got no response he grew serious. "Yes."

"Well I have one now."

"This, Mr. Kane?" He asked releasing the collar of my shirt. "Who is he? And how does he know you're here."

"Ms. Gray is this gentleman bothering you?" The chauffeur had stopped his trek to the car when he realized that we were not immediately following after him. He was in about his mid forties and was dressed in a dapper emerald suit complete with a chauffeur's hat. This sweet old man would be shredded to bits by Bran.

Smiling my best 'all-is-well' grin I patted Bran's shoulder good naturally. Zeroing in on the chauffeur's name tag I attempted to console the agitated driver. "Mr. James this is my," studying Bran I settled on. "Associate, Bran Muffins. "

Halfway through introducing Bran it occurred to me that Bran may not have wanted his real name being flung around. From the look of things I didn't think he appreciated the name I had given him.

"And will Mr. Muffins be joining you in your visitation of Mr. Kane?"

Mr. Muffins glared at me from under frowning brows. "Yes."

Struggling to keep my face strait I nodded in agreement not trusting myself to keep the laughter from my voice.

"Very well, Ms. Gray, Mr. Muffins this way please."

Swallowing my snort I gestured for Bran to go first. "After you Mr. Muffins. "

I didn't move fast enough to block the well deserved slap to the back of the head. So worth it.

The interior of the limousine was all black leather and polished wood an interesting combination in a steel vehicle.

Sliding in Bran went for the console attached to the roof. Fiddling with the buttons he managed to close the divider before James opened the driver's door.

"Who's this Kane."

"He murdered his brother, Abel."

Growling he clenched his fists.

"Right you were probably there," I giggled nervously. "So, Solomon Kane as far as I could tell is the head of the Las Vegas Seethe. They have fingers in almost every pot imaginable on the strip, if you own a casino you've met him and if you've met him you check under your bed every night to make sure he's not there. How have you not heard of him?"

"I pretty much just keep my nose in pack business. When I don't that usually means I'm sleeping." He smiled wryly.

"Ha," Thats good, joking means he is ready for the next bit of information. "He's my eggs hun hen."

A look of bewilderment crossed his face. "Eggs, ham, hen is that code for something?"

Clearing my throat I took sudden interest in the bar. There were the normal crystal cut decanters of amber liquid mixed in were dark blue bottles of Reilly's hard Irish Cream.

"_Crap,_ and here I thought we would be acting like adults." I mumbled while picking up a bottle. This particular bottle was half empty and looked older than the others a note was pinned to the side of the bottle.

_I'll meet you halfway. _The note was written by my hand five years ago in a stupid attempt to change fate. Crawling to the back seat I rolled down the window and chucked the bottle out of the moving limousine. Sitting back satisfied I turned back to Bran. "My ex-husband, Solomon Kane is my ex-husband."

We both sat in stunned silence as the information sank in.

"How old were you?" He asked incredulously. "I'm trying to do the math and you couldn't have been more than eighteen, nineteen at the most."

"Nineteen." I confirmed twisting in my seat trying to get a look at the smashed bottle. If it wasn't illegal I probably would have been tossing more of the dark blue bottles out the window.

"What was the deal with the bottle?" Bran sounded weird, turning around I studied the Marrok. He was holding one of the Irish Cream bottles tight in his hands.

"I was at a bachelorette party for some girl I knew in high school, she knew the bartender and he was slinging out drinks without looking at our I.D."

I shook my head. "I begged to be the designated driver, I figured that there was a reason that the special number was twenty-one."

Taking the bottle away from Bran I set it back in the bar. "Anyways the girls wanted to thank me for being the sober one, so they got me this drink called Irish Cream. I thought it was some sort of iced coffee."

I paused to examine Bran's face, he rubbed his forehead. "The next day I woke up in a hotel room with a dead body and a ring on my finger. At least he wasn't really died."

Bran was now pounding the palm of his hand in to his forehead. "Now you'd think 'hey this is vegas, this must happen all of the time, there must be an abort button?' Nope! it only happens in movies."

I snorted. "We figured out that we worked out pretty well together. We even sort of fell in love. He wanted to change me and I couldn't give up the sun. So we split, signed the correct papers, and wished each other well. He never talked to me again and I got the job I had always dreamed of." Taking a deep breath I went on. "The funny thing is that he wanted to change me so that we would be together forever. Those lone wolves took care of half of that."

Bran opened his mouth to say something just at the car pulled to a stop. The door swung open a few seconds latter by a goofy looking adolescent dressed in a leather jacket and jeans.

"Marko!" I grinned, beaming up at the teenage vampire. "You're still working for the old man."

I attempted to climb out before Bran pulled me back and crawled over me. "After you." I growled while sitting up. Sliding out, taking care not to bump my arm I nearly fell over.

Marko reached out and steadied me by my waist. "I thought werewolves were graceful."

"I thought vampires sparkled,"I laughed wickedly. "Believe me we are both very disappointed."

"I missed ya, Haze."

"I missed you too, Ark."

"I'm missing out on this little meet and greet." A dry voice wafted from behind. The voice belonged to a curvy redhead in a black sequent show girls outfit. Long fluffy plumes of white feathers shoot out straight from her head and from her behind. "I heard you were coming and just couldn't resist."

"How are you doing, Grace?" I asked politely glueing an almost realistic smile on my face.

"Quite well until you arrived, thank you." She sneered. "Please remember that although he asked to speak with you, he will be spending the night in someone else arms."

"Marko," I tuned to the dark skinned vampire with a look of absolute scandal on my face. "Is miss Grace participating in immoral activities with my ex-husband!"

Marko, ever the best straight man kept a blank face as he answered. "Not to my knowledge, Ms. Gray."

"Oh dear," I place a hand over my mouth. "Well, he's all yours, Veni, Vidi, Vici, I always say."

Stamping her foot she stormed off.

I blew a kiss after her. "Best wishes!"

"Your friends are much like you." Bran commented, bring attention to the fact that I had totally forgotten of his presents. He stood by the door of the limo with his hands in his pockets the picture of pure indifference. "Where are we?" He whispered so only I would hear.

I looked around studying our surroundings, we looked to be in an employee's parking lot of some hotel. No doubt the front of the hotel was gleaming with fluorescent lights and promises of worldly pleasure. "I think were at The Grail?" Turning to Marko I saw him nod. "Yup, this is Solomon's favorite haunt." I tapped lightly on the roof. "Thanks for the ride, Mr. James."

There's nothing quite like the smell of a casino.

A blend of unwashed body, cigarette smoke, and despair perforated the floor. Lights flashed and bells ringed sporadically as zombie like people sat latched on to machines with ever renewing hope.

We cut threw the floor making a beeline to bright red double doors marked 'employees only'. Pulling a card from his pocket Marko slid it through a slot on the door making a dinging sound. Ushering us threw he made sure the door shut all the way.

Once the door was close all the noise cut to silents. A gray hallway lit by square florescent lights lead threw to another set of doors, two bulky human bouncers stood at attention. Faint music pulsed from the doors behind them to soft for them to hear.

Marko flashed his fangs to the bouncers and they stept aside opening the door as went. Music washed over me, some nonsense in french about a father, sucking me into the ambiance. The room was all but pitch black with a few ceiling spotlights, highlighting tables and couches.

My eyes were drawn to a plush white booth in the back of the room that was teeming with scantily clad women and piping with laughter.

My jaw tightened.

Nestled right smack dab in the middle of the booth was a laughing Solomon. He looked exactly the same. Solomon Kane had lucked out in the looks department. He features were of a strong Arabic descendant. Smooth toasted almond skin stretched taut over well formed muscles. He wore his dark hair long letting it brush his collarbone, as startling blue eyes twinkled behind thick black lashes. He was clean shaven, he was alwaysed clean shaved.

Marko froze beside me. "I'm sorry I didn't know, Haze."

Blinking, I scraped together a laugh. "For what, he called us. If it was to see this, then this meeting is halfway over."

"I thought he would be better looking," Bran whispered taking my hand he squeezed it, I felt the squeeze all the way in my heart.

I grinned thankfully up at him and let go of his hand. "A half a bottle of Irish cream and you'll feel differently."

He studied Solomon. "If he looks handsome after a half a bottle, how good would I look after a shoot?"

"God like." I giggled doubling over.

"We must protect the populace and band Irish Cream." He quipped.

Standing up right I caught a funny look from Marko, he had been looking between Bran and I.

"He's married," I clarified to the concerned looking teen.

Nodding he led us forward, muttering to himself. "So were you."

Rolling my eyes I followed him closely through the dark room. My eyes were reflecting back light I was sure of it. Even thought it would be near blinding to humans I could get a good count of people and where they were in the room. There were a handful of warm blooded humans compared to the staggering amount of vampires. Bran rested a hand on the small of my back as Marko pulled to a stop.

Solomon pretended that he hadn't noticed us until we stood directly in front of the table.

"What a pleasure to see you Marko," His eyes flashed to us briefly before returning to Marko. "Thank you, make these ladies disperse." The 'ladies' in question squawked there disapproval. His hand caught the arm of a large breasted blonde. "Put this one in my room." He kissed her hand his eyes turned to me. I faked a yawn that suddenly turned into a real one.

Jet lag was catching up to me and I hadn't really had time to sleep on the plane. By the time I looked up again the blonde was gone so was Marko, and looking closely I could see that vain in his forehead pulse furiously at his failed attempt to get a raise from me.

_We should kill him._ For once I kind of agreed with the wolf in my head. _Not now,_ I chided to the wolf while mentally petting its head. _Maybe latter._

Conjuring a painful smile to my lips I greeted my ex. "You look well, Solomon. What do you want?"

Brans fingers that rested on my back curled bunching together the fabric of the jacket I wore. Solomon caught the motion, his eyes narrowed.

"As do you, Who's he?"

"None of your business, Did you burn down the Blue Fairy?"

"I longed for your company, Why is he touching you?"

"This is Bran Muffins, an associate."

"I did not burn down the Blue Fairy, it was one of my properties. Why is he touching you."

Biting my lip I thought over what he said. It was true that if Solomon had owned the Blue Fairy he would never destroy what he owned. Then there was the matter of the wolves staying to burn. That took some serious witchy power to hold twelve werewolves and their families in the flames. Wiches?

"Why is he touching you?" Solomon snarled jumping to his feet and shaking me from my thoughts.

"Sorry, what?" I wonder if there are any covens in Vegas? "Hey, do you know if there are any wicca book shops near by?"

"Hazel," Bran whispered alarmingly. I looked up at Bran questioningly, he focused solely on Solomon.

Solomon looked pissed. "Why are you letting him touch you?"

"Letting him?" Swatting away Bran's hand I faced Solomon head on. "He can touch me when ever he wants!" I growled as a blush worked it's way up my neck. "It is none of your concern who touches me! You lost that right!" I hissed.

"I didn't lose it, you took it away!" He snarled flashing his teeth. Then just as soon as they came out they retracted.

I kept my breathing light as my eyes changed, making sure to saturate each word with Alpha power I spat then in his face. "We will be here until the case is solved. I don't want to see you, hear you, or even smell you while I am here. Leave. Me. Alone."


	5. Chapter Four

**_This weeks writing is kind of crappy so I am sorry. I'll do better next week. P.S. Please comment. Your words help __me _**_**pull threw to the next week**. **Thank you if you have been leaving comments...you know who you are! **_

The Daiquiri was an upscale hotel that was brand spanking new in downtown Las Vegas. Solomon wouldn't have dare touch the project as it was one that the mysterious Marrok was financing. I wondered how long it would take till he knew that Mr. Muffins and the Marrok were one in the same.

Sneaking a glance at the person in question I caught his own studying mine.

"Say what is on your mind." He sighed gripping the steering wheel tighter while maneuvering the car into a near blinding carport.

"During that whole scene you were acting," I gulp trying to find a better word but coming up with nothing. "Submissive."

The shape smell of anger filled the car before I realized that I really should have kept my mouth shut. A voice dug through my subconscious.

_Hazel, never forget that wolves do their best work unseen. By being seen as submissive an enemy is more likely to step closer._ His hand brushed back a tendril of hair that had escaped from the knot at the base of my neck. _Close enough to get caught in my teeth. Never forget that Hazel Gray._

I expected to feel fear. I wanted to feel fear, instead a sense of excitement bubbled in my chest. My wolf let out a happy yip before I near bludgeon it.

"Never forget that, Bran Cornick." I spat in the most threatening manner I could muster.

There was a soft tapping on the drivers window signaling an impatient looking valet. The sound had effectively cut through the building tension in the car.

Entering the lobby we were met by an army of well dressed business officials.

"Mr. Cornick," Greeted a particularly smart looking gentleman with a name tag that read 'manager Elijah Kempt'. "It is an absolute pleasure to receive you. My name is Elijah Kempt and I will be minding after you." His eyes flicked to me scanning my person for worthiness? Before settling on my arm. "I will send a doctor to your room immediately." He checked with Bran who nodded before going on. "This is Jamaal Kingston he will be showing you to your suite. If you need anything merely ask."

It turns out that Jamaal was a veteran bell boy well past his prime but he still managed to carry our bags to the room without breaking a sweat. _If its not broken._

Our suit was on the top floor with an elevator ride that took about ten minutes. Instead of having an actual door the key card had to be swiped in the elevator. A soft ding signaled the arrival of our destination, Jamaal swiped his card and the doors opened.

My eyebrows raised.

The room was very nice. Large picture windows gave view to beautifully lit scenes of downtown vegas. Sleek modern furniture was slung in a tasteful manner around the room. A bar sat to the left of the entrants separating two doors which I assumed were the rooms but it wasn't the room itself that raised my brows. No it was the hazardly scattered petals that flooded the room.

A defined trail of rose petals lead to one of the rooms by the bar. Candles were lit and flickering softly casting the room with a cosy glow.

I turned to Bran who was examining the room with the same sort of stupor as I was. From the looks of things Jamaal had slipped out while we were 'admiring' the room.

"You know when they asked if a trip is 'business or pleasure' when you make a reservation, what did you say?" I asked curiously.

His eyes made another loop of the room before landing on me. "Go to sleep we have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow. I'll have someone come clean this up in the morning."

I gave him a remorseful look. "Performance issues?" I jabbed before diving into the room that looked safe from rose petals. Slamming the door shut, I realized I left my bag out in the living room. A loud thud rattled the door I leaned against followed by the sound of another door slamming.

Peaking out I scooped the room, deeming it safe I swiftly dragged my bag in and locked the door.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

The business center of the Daiquiri was surprisingly disappointing. A slow running computer and rotary phone on a shaky black desk was all that sat in the phone booth size room.

I sat leaning back in the plastic blue chair as I waited for the page to load, looking at the clock I counted five minutes. "I really hope that this is the right shop."

I had been up since the crack of dawn searching for the right Wicca shop. I had met a few certifiable witches since becoming a werewolf but all the shops I had looked at were complete fakes.

The great and powerful Marrok was still fast asleep. I had checked up on him before heading down to the lobby to look for the business center. He was curled up in the middle of the bed in nothing but a pair of raggedy flannel pajama pants. A pile of petals overfilled the little office trash can by the desk he must have spent a good amount of time cleaning up the petals.

Inspiration struck.

Tip toeing deeper into the room I picked up the trash can. Then being as delicate as I could, I dumped the flowers over the sleeping werewolf and tip toed out.

Sparing a glance at the flickering computer screen I dove for the mouse.

This website was different than the others. Instead of hawking its wares it was completely dark blue. Three symbols were front and center: A pentagon, a star, and a celtic knot. I hovered over the star briefly before another symbol appeared down in the top right corner. It looked like some sort of ancient rune, like a 'C' with two 'v' in place of both curves.

Without hesitating I clicked on the crimp 'C'.

The page cleared and began to glow dark orange, black letters formed an address. Writing it down on my palm I grabbed my jacket. I could walk there and back before Bran woke up.

Looking down at my palm I studied the address again.

I was currently standing in an empty parking lot of an abandoned shopping center. There were cracks in the asphalt that were big enough to swallow me whole. Tumbleweeds littered the shops that had broken windows and doors. One of the shops that had the most tumbleweeds was supposedly the shop I was trying to look for.

Nearing the site I read the faded words above the depressing store. 'Aunty Jemma's Designer Duds!'

"Well this was a waste of time." I cursed under my breath while kicking my boots into a way wered tumbleweed. My foot got caught as I tried to shake free. Grabbing a hold of the door I tumbled thru it as if it was just a hologram. Letting out a yelp I crashed to the floor in the most unseemly manor.

"Welcome to Aunty Jemma's Wicca wonder emporium-What are you doing on the floor?!" A cheery voice chimed above my head.

Looking up I met a pair of dark orange colored eyes. "Hi, my name is Hazel Gray I was wondering if you could answer a few questions concerning the fire at the Blue Fairy motel?"

The eyes blinked once before shutting completely. My head swam for a minuet before it settled.

The next thing I knew I was upright sitting in a chair, at a table, with a tea set and spread laid out on delicate china. The sensation was unsettling at most. My wolf didn't like it in the least.

_Kill it!_

"Your very charming," A voice chided from behind me. I fought to sit still, as a long limbed man circled to take the seat across from me. "Not many people question me whilst laying on the ground."

He sat and began pouring tea. I watched his movements alertly. His face was all angles sharp enough to slice flies that got too close, he smelled like burnt cotton candy. This man was powerful a grade A wizard at the least.

"Milk and sugar?" He asked with a jug of milk poised over a purple tea cup.

Pressing a smile to my lips I nodded. "Yes, please."

Adding sugar to my cup he set it in front of me and set off in preparing his own. "Now, lets see, the Blue Fairy Motel. Didn't the Vegas Pack make residence there?"

I lifted the cup to my mouth and took a delicate sniff. _Chamomile and Lavender, yum._

"Yes, recently it burned down with all fourteen werewolves in it." I took a sip of the tea and nodded.

"And you suspect me?" The man tilted his head in quizzical way.

"I suspect magic." Setting my cup down I stared down the fascinating man. "Who are you? I assume that you're not Aunty Jemma."

His thin face cracked into a smile, revealing black teeth. "No, I just thought that Aunty Jemma might bring in more costimers. My name is Sabian Wyrmwood," He stood and bowed with a flourish. "At your service." Sitting he raised his cup to his mouth and looked at me coyly over the brim. "I have never met a women alpha of your caliber before." He took a sip then grinned flirtatiously. "It is an absolute pleasure."

I fought to not return the grin but failed, I think I've found a kindred spirit. I looked around the room and realized we were in the front of a store.

Shelves were lined with glass bottles and books. Fresh and dried herbs hung from the ceiling. Tapped to the wall's in sporadic clusters were letters and pictures.

"Fan mail?" I asked pointing at the wall.

Knocking his head back he chuckled, again revealing black teeth. "In a way yes." Standing he patted the wall. "Every witch and wizard in Las Vegas comes here for supplies," He hunched his shoulders in a mock attempt of humility. "I have the best of the best."

"So, you know every one?" I asked turning to watch him paced up and down the wall of fandom.

He paused mid stride. "You are correct in thinking it was magic. That kind of magic can only be done by a handful of wizards."

"And there names are?"

He stroked his chin this orange eyes burning brighter. "What will you give me in return?"

"My first born child?" I quipped serinly.

He struggled to swallow a laugh, knowing full well that I could never have children. "An hour of your time."

"To do what?" I asked suspiciously.

"To do a spell, it requires a female werewolf." Sitting he looked me squarely in the eyes. "I promise you that you will not be harmed, all you have to do is stand there."

Biting my lip I thought it over. "Will I be wearing clothes?"

"Thats optional." He snorted. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Deal, I intend to ware clothes." Extending my hand I shook his. "The names please."

He stood and disappeared into a back room. Fiddling with my cup I set it down and focussed on the fan mail wall. Smiling faces beamed back out of glossy photos. Somewhere in black and white some were in faded color. There was this newer photo posted behind a letter written in some sort of code. Standing I unpinned the picture with shaking hands.

Unsmiling was a handsome young man with dark brown hair. He was dressed in a white buttoned down shirt and black slacks. Some papers were tucked under his arm all but forgotten. It was the face that had drawn me to this picture, I had seen it somewhere else before. Just once for just a moment. Licking my lips I studied the face, I had broken her collar bone.

"Here's the list."

Spinning on my heel I shoved the photo under Sabin's nose. "Who is he?"

He blinked in surprise. "Troy Orah he's on the list."

Grabbing Sabin's face I kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you!"

He rubbed his face thoughtfully whipering. "Anytime." But I didn't hear that as I was out the door and halfway up the street making a beeline for the hotel to tell Bran all I had learned.


	6. Chapter Five (part one)

Why would she do it?

What was her motive? What could she possibly gain from burning down the blue fairy? How was she related to the young man?

"Bran we have to talk." Entering the lavish hotel room I had enough time to look around and wonder where he was before I found myself pinned to the royal blue rug carpeting the floor. Writhing I attempted to gain some footing but found that all my limbs were sufficiently pinned. "Bran?!"

"You have thirty seconds to convince me why I shouldn't kill you." The heavy man on top of me growled. His voice was dripping with anger, borderline loop.

I swallowed thickly I combed my mind to figure out what I had done to deserve this. A jumbled apology bubbled from my lips. "I'm sorry I know I should have told you that I was leaving the hotel." The pressure on my neck didn't lessen. "If this is about the rose petal thing I had nothing to do with that."

"Bran just kill her already." A prissy voice simmered from the open door to Bran's room. Wiggling I managed to flip around on to my back. I caught sight of a pair of glossy leather shoes, the smell of Channel #5 permeated the room as the shoes drew closer.

"Lena, darling it's been too long." I purred before gagging as Bran attempted to strangle me. There was something wrong. Bran wasn't one to get caught up a killing rage, that was Charles job. He was a logical thinker much more clear minded.

A smirking face filled my vision as I wavered in and out of consciousness.

_Let me kill them,_ my wolf growled. Freeing a hand I thrusted my thumb into the corner of his eye. His fingers loosened from around my throat enough for me to talk. "Bran, Listen you need to calm down." He tightened his grip cutting off my air supplies.

Kneeing him in the groin I scrambled away diving for Bran's open door.

"Not so fast, mutt." Lean growled blocking my path. I didn't even spare her a look as I flung her aside. She shrieked as she flew across the room.

Slamming the door shut I had enough time to shove a bedside table against the door before a snarl sounded from the other side. Scrambling I unbuttoned my shirt and kicked my jeans off as I pulled myself threw the change.

"Gahhhh." My bones contorted flexing in to my wolf form I had never changed this fast before and my muscles were protesting.

Crouching I blinked getting my bearings. The door gave another thud and shutter knocking the table aside.

_Maim him._ The door busted open revealing a very angry wolf with gold eyes, a smaller wolf hung back by the elevator doors. _You can kill her._

Bounding forward he leaped mouth hanging open. Dropping to my belly I waited until he was halfway over my head before nipping at his back leg. Snarling he shook free before I could do any real damage. Darting around I jumped on the distracted wolf clamping my jaws around his muzzle in an attempt to placate the insane wolf.

While I was busy with that Leah slunk up from behind. Clawing at Bran's throat I bought enough time to let go of his muzzle and snarl at the sneaky wolf. She yipped and fell to her belly while crawling back to the doorway. Turning back to Bran I sniffed his bleeding neck noting that he hadn't moved since.

_We killed him._ My wolf laughed maniacally.

A split second later the wolf beneath me sprung up latching his teeth around my front leg snapping the bone that had just this morning finally healed. Screeching I roughly bit his neck ripping through frantically flesh. The moment his grip loosened I booked it out of the room favoring my front leg. He had enough time to swipe my side before I left.

Making a beeline towards the elevators I taped my nose to open the door. Fate seemed to smile on me as the doors dinged sliding open. Backing in I kept my eyes on the growling wolves that had made their way from the bedroom.

_Hazel run and I will kill you._ Bran snarled in my head inching slowly forward. Blood dripped to the floor matting in his fur. The smell perfumed the air railing up my wolf. Then the doors closed.

Limping forward I taped the main level button with my nose and waited the agonizing seconds until it reached the bottom. If Bran shifted fast enough he could call the front desk and there could be someone waiting. Either way I would have to run in order to get out of this hotel.

Crouching I waited for the door to open and the moment it did I bolted. A surprised looking Mr. Kempt shouted obscenities with a phone tucked to his ears. Huffing I shot towards the revolving doors slipping in with a young lady in a red dress she shrieked and pushed against the door opening it for the both of us.

Hopping down the front steps I bounded out into traffic. Yeah, not my smartest moment.

Cars honked as I made my way down the street. Limping I made my way down a deserted alley blocked off by dumpsters. Curling into an empty doorway I tenderly licked my wounds.

The crazy wolf was trying to kill me! I tried to get a look at the wound in my side but all I could see was the blood pooling beneath me. I couldn't stay here, stumbling to my paws I nearly succumbed to vertigo before leaned against the wall. The jerk must have nicked an artery.

Ears flipping I caught the sound of a very familiar car. Twisting my head around I bared my fangs at the shape making its way towards me.

"Now Hazel we can argue about this latter." Solomon's voice echoed from behind gathering mist.

"**My little wolf come to me.**" He whispered in Arabic.

Snorting I carefully backed away shaking as I went.

"**Beautiful white wolf I will protect you while you heal.**" He stalked closer as I attempted to keep my eyes open.

"**Sleep, lady of my idolatry.**" Blinking I found his hand resting on my head.

Falling to my belly I felt Solomon's arms fold around me lifting me up.

"**Rest wife of mine."**


	7. Chapter Five (part two)

I woke to the sound of Arabic profanity.

"Don't shift back Hazel," Solomon hissed into my ear followed by another string of profanity.

Hot sharp pain ripped through my side as minuscule stitches strained against my flesh. My wrist throbbed slightly adding to the symphony of pain.

Breathing through my nose I coughed out whatever gunk that had settled at the back of my throat. Blinking my eyes open I took in the room and my surrounding situation.

The room was large. Even with the California size bed we were sitting on barley filled a fifth of the room. White walls and white furniture filled the room giving off a whole claustrophobic feeling.

Strong arms were wrapped around my body cocooning me in a soothing warmth. Looking up I meet eyes with a pair of brilliant blue. Breaking eye contact he snapped at someone over his shoulder just out of my vision range. "Get her some clothes."

Pulling me closer he whispered in my ear. "It's alright no one saw anything."

It took me a moment before I realized that he was shielding my body from anyone else in the room. He was preserving my modesty, a concept that I quickly had to shake after becoming a wolf.

"Hazel, are you in pain." He asked a wash of concern lighting his eyes.

Blinking I took inventory of my new collection of wounds.

This morning my wrist was all but healed, now it throbbed almost unbearably. The cut at my side had ripped open lighting my ribs on fire and letting a weak stream of crimson blood drip down my back and pool on the white bedspread.

_Blood_ that could be a problem.

"Calm, White Wolf." He whispered stroking back my hair. "Have more faith in me."

I snorted back a retort.

Lowering his face he grinned mischievously gazing down at my face. "Be nice." He winked. "You may not notice but your at my mercy."

My wolf lifted her head and yawned. Licking my lips his eyes flicked down at them. I reached out a hand I stroked his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck. His eyes closed lazily a low rumble resonated from his throat.

"At whose mercy?" I drawled tightening my fingers around his throat.

His eyes snapped open a smile lighting his face. "I forget that you are nearly as strong as me." His arms tightened around me. "Imagine all the fun we can have now that you're indestructible."

"Quite a bit I imagine." I pulled away rolling off the bed to my feet. "Something you will never find out." There was a faint knock at the door before it opened.

Marko strolled in nonplussed at my nude appearance and place a stack of clothes in my arms. "Curse you Haz, that wound of yours was coming along nicely before you went and ripped your stitches." Pulling a gauze pad out of his pocket he tore it open and slapped it on the bleeding cut. My wolf growled warningly. "Oh, hush." He muttered tapping it down.

"Marko, please be gentle." Solomon called from the bed. Looking over I caught him reclined and licking his fingers clean of my blood.

"Faith huh?" I grinned sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes. "Go clean yourself up I have guests coming and I can't have them thinking that you're some sort of...appetizer."

"The bathroom is threw there." Pointing to a closed doorway behind me to the left he made sure to get a good eyeful of me walking over. "Who am I kidding no one will ever think of you as an appetizer."

I stopped and turned around. "To tough on the teeth." I growled.

Standing he stalked over. "Quite the opposite," Stopping about halfway across the distance he took a deep breath. "Your dessert."

With shaking hands I washed every fleck of blood from my body.

What was he thinking saying things like that! To me! The gall of it. The- slamming my hands down on the lip of the sink I growled at my reflection. Wolf eyes stared back at me.

_Why is it never easy._ I questioned my wolf.

_If it was easy would it be worth it? _She answered back cryptically. Turning on the faucet I ran my hands under the cool water contemplating the humor of my current situation.

I was hiding out at my ex-husbands while my Alpha the most clear headed person I knew was being controlled by a psychopathic women who may or may not have had something to do with the murder of twenty wolves. Rubbing off whatever grime caked my face I attempted to think out my next course of action.

I couldn't stay here for long. Death or worse is what would await me if I stayed. Pulling on the clothes that Marco had brought me I weighed the pros and cons of calling Charles and Anna.

Bran might have contacted them already and there could be no help from their side. But it could also be possible that because of Leah's involvement she might not have wanted them involved. Biting my lip I settled on it.

Buttoning up the silk shirt I walked out of the bathroom clad in white leather pants and a pale pink silk shirt. Marko's taste in clothing run threw the extreme.

Marko was gone but Solomon was back in his reclined position. "Beautiful as ever."

"Thank you." I nodded. "I need to borrow a phone."

He studies me for a second before reaching into his pocket and tossing me his cell phone.

"What the password?" I asked once the screen flickered to life.

"0124." He laughed.

Tapping in the password I paused the numbers sounded familiar. Shaking my head I keyed in Anna's number. The line rang for a moment then went straight to voicemail.

"_This is Anna please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can._"

I waited patiently for the beep before starting my story. "Hey Anna! This is Hazel hope your doing well. I was calling because your father in law just tried and currently is trying to kill me. Thought you ought to know. Leah is here I think she is trying to control Bran with something a little stronger then her womanly wiles. I also think that she was involved with the Blue Fairy Fire. I have a suspect that leads back to the fires and he looks just like her. Maybe distant relative?" Sighing I caught my breath. " Perhaps you and Charles can come down and you can work your Omega voodoo on him. Set balance to the world. Any who, again I hope your doing well. I'll try to call you again."

Ending the call I checked the time.

My brow's crimped. "How long was I out?"

"An hour or two." In the time I was on the phone Solomon had gotten up and sat upright on the foot of the bed.

"That can't be right it's barely dusk." I studied his smug form. "You came for me in broad daylight." I muttered stunned.

"I think it was an alleyway." He mused sitting back resting on his elbows.

"Sunlight. You were in sunlight how is that possible?"

He smile faded. "The one of the reason's you left is because I couldn't watch the sun rise with you." His gaze pinned me to my spot. "I thought that if I could do that you would come back." Shaking his head he jumped to his feet. "But you vanished off the face of the planet. But that's alright it comes in handy." He laughed. "Killing your enemies in their slumber and all that jazz."

Stopping at my side he held out his arm. "Come I must show you off to my guests they will simply die with envy when they see you on my arm."

"They will also die if they try to take you from my arm." He added nonchalantly.

"My, there sounds like there will be a lot of death at this gathering." I spat.

"White wolf." He murmured in Arabic. "The best parties do."


End file.
